


God Keep Your Soul Somewhere, My Bonny Dear

by oppressa



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Angst, Asphyxiation, Character Death, F/M, Random & Short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-18
Updated: 2014-11-18
Packaged: 2018-02-26 04:09:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2637461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oppressa/pseuds/oppressa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anne and Jack, at the beginning, middle and end.</p>
            </blockquote>





	God Keep Your Soul Somewhere, My Bonny Dear

**Author's Note:**

> I read in my pirate book I got from the library purely so I could research them that today is the day Jack was hanged back in 1720, and I also saw a wonderful graphics post on the rackhambonny blog, so this happened. Which is not to say it is strictly historically accurate! I don't know if Anne saw Jack's actual execution at all.

Anne doesn't dance, and she won't even oblige his request she should by tapping her foot as the jig starts, after he jokingly tries to throw her out onto the floor.

“You used to.” He whispers to her. “The first time I saw you, you were.”

So she was. She remembers that night, in a tavern much like this one, he was sitting with Vane and his face displayed what a thankless task he thought he had, though most anyone would envy the quartermaster of the infamous Ranger. His gestures and expressions were quick, cunning, almost rat-like, but when he caught sight of her watching, he smiled, touched his hat, and she'd had to carry on dancing, because it held his attention.

 

************

 

When she's had enough of avoiding him, she storms into their tent and drags him up from the blankets by his scarf, leaning back when he tries to kiss her, winding her hand tighter in the material and yanking him to his knees.

He looks up at her, lays his hand on top of hers. “You feel like strangling me, Anne?”

“Sometimes.” She replies, truthfully. “I could. The whore's the only thing keeping our crew at our side, is she? You're a bastard, Jack, you really are.”

His presses his forehead against her thigh, murmurs, “I know.”

“You don't know the half of it, otherwise you wouldn't say them things.” She begins to twist the knot into his throat, so he chokes, and then she kisses him, her mouth crashing against his own wide open, feeling his panic, that he can't breathe. Jack's afraid of something tightening around his neck, they all are.

Before he goes limp she withdraws and holds him by his shoulder, letting him draw breath. “Do you want me to stop?”

“I suppose that from your point of view I deserve this, don't I?” He rasps, swallowing.

She nods.

“Then no.”

“All right.” She says, taking the belt from off her hips. “Lie down.”

 

************

 

Jack does nothing but stare straight at her, despite the jeers from the crowd, his gaze doesn't waver for a second. _Watch me_ , it says, _don't you dare look away_. Then he drops like a stone from the scaffold, and everybody gasps apart from her. She is the only unflinching witness to his last dance, until he stills and swings lifelessly, the only one praying for his soul.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from a poem I read in a book a long time ago.


End file.
